


Traintop

by greenforsnow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Hogwarts Era, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecurity, M/M, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-12-14 02:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21008063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenforsnow/pseuds/greenforsnow
Summary: “You ever been on top of a train, Moony?”Sirius and Remus discuss the future from on top of the Hogwarts Express.





	Traintop

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Wolfstar Games 2019
> 
> Team: Journey  
Prompt: “I don’t think anyone can grow unless he’s loved exactly as he is now, appreciated for what he is rather than what he will be.” -Fred Rogers
> 
> CW for implied/referenced child abuse

Sirius seemed unbreakable. The confidence and swagger that seeped into each of his actions— each sentence he spoke or movement he made, it never really left. Even at his lowest— after fights with Regulus, scrubbing cauldrons in detention, throwing-up firewhiskey and pumpkin pasties. His jaw set and eyes focused. He still looked composed. It was something that felt so foreign to Remus. He had never felt as confident as Sirius looked— even when he was getting scolded by Professor McGonagall or being jinxed by some Slytherin. 

Now, Sirius’ long fingers, carrying shadows of cuts and bruises from earlier in the summer, traced up and down the maroon spine of his Charms book. He stared out the window, the shadows of the moving scenery playing across his carefully neutral face. Remus tried not to stare, tried not to search for signs of change in Sirius’ shoulders or eyes. He had gotten an owl in the middle of the night from James a month into the summer holidays— the handwriting rushed and messy— explaining that Sirius had come to live with him and his parents. No extended explanation—just a brief reassurance, tacked on to the end, that Sirius was okay. Sirius’ letter had come a few days later. It was written in his careful script and filled with vague details and inappropriate jokes and had the same reassurance added to the end. Remus had wanted to go visit them, but it had been a week before the full moon. By the time he was able to verify Sirius’ well being on his own, his bruises were fading and he was full of grins and questionable ideas again. 

Remus forced himself to look away from Sirius. James was reading the Daily Prophet. His jaw was clenched and his hands gripped the edges of the paper hard enough that it was crinkled and almost torn. Peter was sleeping, his head rested against the glass and shook slightly with the movement of the train. The sun beating through the window was comfortably warm and his potions book was comfortably dull. Remus was playing with the idea of falling asleep himself— enjoying the moment before sleep came where his thoughts softened and slowed and his body was warm and heavy. 

He was just about to give in and slip into sleep, when Sirius stretched out his legs and kicked his heavy boots against Remus’ ankles. Remus blinked and looked back up at Sirius. He had turned from the window and was smiling at Remus. “You ever been on top of a train, Moony?”

“While it’s moving?”

The playful glint in Sirius’ eyes answered and he stood up. “C’mon,” he said.

Remus turned and looked at James.

“He’s due to go harass our dear Ms. Evans and Pete’s asleep,” Sirius said and waved his hand.

James ran a hand through his hair and put down the paper. “Now that you mention it— I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear about our adventures this summer, Pads,” James said and the frown on his face was erased by a sly grin. 

Sirius snorted in response. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He kicked Remus’s feet again and Remus relented and stood. 

James glared at Sirius’ retreating back, “Confidence! Confidence is key. This is going to be the year for me and Evans. I need us all to believe it!”

Remus laughed and gave James a smile, “Try to just be a little…. Less Prongs, okay? If that’s possible?” 

Sirius rolled his eyes and closed the door of the compartment behind them. “Never gonna happen. But it’s good for him to be challenged every once in a while. C’mon,” Sirius grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the end of the carriage. His fingers trailed down his arm as he pulled Remus along, ending by briefly gripping two of Remus’ fingers before stroking the side of Remus’ thumb and dropping back to Sirius’ side. The touch was brief, but it jolted Remus all the same. 

They didn’t talk about this. Whatever passed between them in moments like this. Always small and brief enough for plausible deniability. 

Remus had identified one moment that was the start of this— whatever it was— but in reality he knew it started long before. Maybe started with an odd unbidden longing in Remus’ gut when Sirius smiled at him. Or in the moments when Sirius stayed after transformations in the Shrieking Shack his fingers tracing over Remus’ wounds as he healed him gentle, but leaking heat and a foreign desire for _more_ all over Remus’ bare skin. Or deep within a creature who was not Remus, but still not not-Remus too— delighting at having a partner to run with— flashes of memories of moonlight lighting the edges of black fur— of playful growls and nips. Feelings that did not quite leave Remus as the beast faded with the morning light. Or with Sirius’ chin pressed sharp and tickling against Remus’ neck as he read over his shoulder, as he reached around Remus so he was almost hugging him to write commentary in the margins of Remus’ books. A sin that Remus would have yelled at anyone else for, but with Sirius it felt like a secret language that was just theirs. Or maybe it was in the moment where Remus realized that he relished in having something that was just his and Sirius’. 

Whenever it started, it became wrapped and twisted into Remus’ identity so he neither knew how to remove it or allow himself to look at it directly. But then, there was this moment where it was acknowledged— not verbally, never verbally. Remus was cursing about the cold at a particularly windy Quidditch game and Sirius had brought a thick red blanket that he tossed over Remus, Peter, and himself. An hour into the game, as Remus was considering the merits of a couch by the fire in the common room, his hands gripping the bench Sirius had charmed to be self-warming. Sirius’ pinkie brushed along his own. Remus didn’t move, expecting Sirius to notice and move his hand away. Instead, he curled his finger over Remus’ in a motion that had to be deliberate. Remus looked at Sirius out of the corner of his eye, but the other boy was staring straight ahead. Remus chewed on the inside of his cheek and moved his hand closer so all of their fingers were overlapping. He refused to look at Sirius now— his attention firmly on the game. They stayed like that for the rest of the match. Remus did not dare to look at the other boy until the game ended and hoped that the blush rising on his cheeks could be explained by the cold and the wind. Before standing Sirius curled his and Remus’ fingers and squeezed his hand then pulled his hand back and folded up the blanket. Remus noted a smile at the edge of Sirius’ lips, despite the fact that Ravenclaw had beat them by a solid 75 points. 

So that was what Remus called the Start. It continued after that. Sirius’ hand on his knee under the breakfast table, spelling out messages on his leg that Remus could never understand. Remus leaning over Sirius to make a correction to the map and lingering there making sure his hand stayed pressed against Sirius’ long enough to be deliberate. One night when Sirius drunkenly climbed into Remus’ bed, complaining that his own was too cold. He draped himself over Remus, wearing only his underwear and boots, the amount of bare skin against his own felt almost unbearable. He pressed his face into Remus’ chest and babbled about keeping secrets until he drifted off to sleep— something that evaded Remus for the rest of the night. 

But then it stopped. Sirius had done that idiotic thing with Snape and the betrayal and hurt tore Remus away. He stayed mad for months. Months of slamming doors and reading Frankenstein alone by the lake. When he finally forgave Sirius, it was like neither of them dared to start whatever this unspoken thing between them was again. 

But now. The feeling of Sirius fingers briefly on his own still burning into Remus’ skin he followed him down the corridor. Remus’ stomach flipped and burned as they reached the end of the carriage. 

Sirius looked up the hall. “Crazy that they leave a bunch of teenagers on a train unattended isn’t it?”

Remus grinned back at him. “It’s almost like we wouldn’t be at fault if we were to do something…. Dangerous.”

Sirius’ eyes lit up brilliantly at that and he flicked his wand at the door that opened to the outside. It slid open with surprising force. He wiggled his eyebrows at Remus. “Ready Master Moony?”

The look in Sirius’ eyes could make Remus do anything— devilish and joyful and so full of excitement it was impossible not to feel a spark of it light inside himself as well. “Might as well, Master Padfoot,” he said followed Sirius out the door. 

The iron shook underneath their feet and the wind almost knocked Remus over. Sirius turned to look at him and the wind whipped his hair into his face. He looked a bit mad, a toothy grin, curtained by long black hair that whirled around his grey eyes. Remus couldn’t help but smile back, despite the unsteady metal under his feet. Sirius climbed easily up the ladder to the top of the train and reached down to help Remus up. The metal shook underneath Remus’ feet, but Sirius’ grip on his hands was steady and warm. He pulled him up on to the top of the train. Remus clambered up and collapsed on to the top of the carriage— an unsteady heap.

Sirius looked the opposite of what Remus felt. He stood facing into the rush of wind. The look in his eyes was wild and for a moment Remus thought he was going to jump off. Remus could picture it, his black robes and hair billowing out behind him as he tumbled onto the field that was rushing by below them. Instead, he held out a hand towards Remus— his whole body stretched out in invitation, from the slight curl of his fingertips to the light in his eyes. Remus rolled his eyes, but accepted Sirius’ hand- hot and firm in his own. Sirius tugged him to his feet. The combination of Sirius so close and the speed and height of the train made Remus feel lightheaded. The worn soles of his shoes against the sleek metal of the train. He stumbled. 

“Woah there,” Sirius said with a laugh. He maneuvered Remus so he was standing behind him. His hands steady on his shoulders.

“You ever just need to scream?” Sirius’ spoke right next to his ear so he could feel the vibration of his voice and feel his breath on his neck. 

Remus thought that if he could somehow turn this moment, this feeling, into a potion—the exhilaration of Sirius pressed close and the promise of getting hooked into Sirius’ particular kind of madness and brilliance. He could be happy forever. 

Remus wasn’t sure if it was hard to breath because of the wind ripping against his face or because of Sirius’ body right behind his— a solid line of heat ankle to shoulder. They hadn’t had this much contact since before The Prank when Sirius was drunk on firewhiskey and the whole night was filled with sloppy needy touches. 

Sirius roared against the wind. And then laughed, loud and clear in Remus’ ear. 

“You all set now?” Remus asked.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I guess so,” he said and turned to face Remus. The air caught Sirius’ hair in a whirlwind. It lashing against his nose and sticking to his mouth. He kept blowing and spitting it out of his mouth and the wind kept blowing it back. Remus shook his head slightly as he watched. He was going to make a comment about doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, but instead he stepped closer and drew his hands into the mane of dark hair. Something felt illicit about this— his fingers in the other boy’s hair — soft and sun-warmed. 

“You need to cut this,” Remus said. In part to rile the other boy up, and in part because now that he knew exactly what his hair felt like slipping between his fingers, he was not sure he would be able to look at Sirius again without imagining it. 

“Cut my hair?” Sirius gasped dramatically and Remus rolled his eyes. “Would you tell Tchaikovsky to shorten Symphony Number Six? Would you tell Olaf Boartusk to just tone it down with the metaphors in _The Lone Toad_? Would you tell Mathilde Juneberry to just call it a night when she was inventing the cure to Kneazle fever?”

“Just to be clear: you are comparing your hair to perhaps the greatest composer’s greatest song, the pivotal work of magical-existentialism, and a cure for a disease which was the leading cause of wizarding-child mortality until the 1790s?”

Sirius shrugged. “Do you disagree?” He leaned back— undoing Remus’ progress— his dark hair spilling from his fingers and blowing back into Sirius’ face. Sirius grinned and Remus’ hands faltered— sliding down and brushing against his neck. 

Remus drew his wand from his pocket and conjured a length of red cord. He held it in his teeth as he regathered Sirius’ hair and then tied it back in an inelegant bow. Anyone else would look ridiculous, Remus thought as he regarded his work. Hair sticking out at odd angles looping back on itself. Sirius had the gift of looking— Merlin, just devastating— no matter the circumstances. 

He winked at Remus. “Thanks Moony.”

Remus allowed himself to bend his unsteady knees and scramble down so he was laying on the train. The metal is the train was hot from the sun and it soaked through his robes.

Sirius flopped down next to Remus. The top of the train was narrow. Their shoulders and arms were pressed tight and hot against each other. Sirius casually tossed his leg over Remus’ and tentatively moved his fingers towards Remus’. Their knuckles brushed. Remus wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline or the rushing wind or just the fact that they were here in what seemed outside of the moment of time, but he was feeling brave. He closed his fingers around Sirius’ so they were properly holding hands. He even turned so he could see Sirius’ smile grow across his face. That look unlocked something in Remus and he ran his thumb along Sirius’. They stayed like that for a moment, silent and connected.

“What’re we doing, Moony?” Sirius said soft enough that Remus almost didn’t hear him.

Remus loosened his grip on Sirius’ hand and it fell from his own. 

“I just mean— we’re graduating soon. Hogwarts— it’s going to be done. Do you know what you want, Moony?”

Remus’ thoughts of his future were small flashes— blurry and fragmented. Bookshelves and a proper kettle. Grey eyes and thick blankets. Less wants and more distant tentative hopes and simple goals.

Remus breathed out a huff of air. “I think my options are going to be kind of limited.”

He saw Sirius’ brows draw together, felt his body next to his stiffen. “We’ll change that. All those arse-backward laws.”

Remus knew that voice. He had years of experience watching Sirius decide something— hearing the intense clarity in his voice. Even at eleven years-old he had a way of making everything seem like it had no choice but to fall in to place the exact way he wanted. It made him feel hopeful and he hated that Sirius had that kind of power over him. There was an ever present feeling in his gut— a thought that was clear— hope was dangerous. 

“Did you have plans?” Sirius turned towards him so he was laying on his side and reached out and slid his hand over Remus’ thigh where the scar from Greyback’s bite was. He let his hand linger there and Remus felt it burning through his robes— almost electric. 

“I wanted to be a lion trainer for the circus.”

Sirius laughed and his foot kicked against Remus’ ankle. “Still a chance I guess.”

“In my defense, I was six,” Remus said and Sirius’ face fell again.

“My plans were always just the opposite of whatever my parents’ plans for me were,” Sirius said, “Guess that’s kind of a moot point now.”

“We still have time to figure it all out,” Remus said. 

“You know,” Sirius said, “I always figured the four of us would all live together after Hogwarts— couldn’t imagine it any other way. Didn’t understand it when James or Pete would talk about growing up and moving in with some girl. Like that was the inevitable thing.” 

Remus looked at Sirius closely for a moment. His grey eyes were still looking at the sky and long fingers playing with the end of his tie. “You never thought about that?”

Sirius chuckled. “Not for me,” he said and turned to look back at Remus. There was a question in his eyes Remus couldn’t quite make out— maybe he didn’t want to. 

“Now, James is probably going to off and marry Lily and Pete will probably go back and work with his father… shack up with that childhood friend he always drones on about… or else he’ll just sleep on James’ couch.”

“Lily still barely talks to James and now you’re marrying them off?”

Sirius shrugged. “She wrote back to him this summer. Not all nice things, but it was communication. Lily’s a smart girl— she’s going to figure out he’s not as much of a twat as he acts eventually.”

Remus rolled his eyes. He wasn’t surprised. James, when he stopped posturing, was probably everything that Lily wanted. 

“I’ll live with you,” Remus said. The words escaped him before he thought them through.

“Really?” Sirius asked. He sat up and turned so he was sitting between Remus’ legs. 

Remus sat up too— his legs tangling with Sirius’. “Yeah, we can be sad lonely bachelors together,” Remus said.

Sirius tilted his head and regarded Remus carefully. His eyes were lit by energy that seemed almost crazed. “We don’t have to be…” 

“Sad? Lonely? Bachelors?” Remus asked. He felt something rising inside himself. 

Sirius reached out his fingers drummed against Remus’ knee. He stared at Remus— his mouth opening with the start of a response. After a moment, he looked away. “Hard to be lonely when you’re living with your best mate, right?”

“Yeah,” Remus said. He felt uncomfortable with his disappointment at Sirius’ response. He looked away and noticed that the train was hurdling down towards a river and a— 

“Tunnel,” he cried. 

Sirius reacted fast— he fell forward and pressed himself on top of Remus. The air turned immediately stale and damp. There was a pressure in Remus’ ears and he squeezed his eyes shut despite the dark. Sirius was heavy on top of him and the scent of him filled Remus’ nose— smoke and pine and the potion he used on his hair. He could feel his heart beating fast— or maybe it was Sirius’ pressed against his own. 

“If some piece of molding crushes my skull I am going to haunt you for your whole damn life,” Remus muttered into Sirius’ ear.

Sirius chuckled and his breath against Remus’ neck made him shiver.

“It’ll crush my skull first, you jerk,” Sirius said.

“Can a ghost haunt another ghost?” Remus asked.

Sirius’ laugh vibrated through both their bodies. And then the echoing rumble ceased and Remus blinked at the assault of sun. Sirius was still pressed on top of him. Remus could feel feel each of his breaths. Still coming fast. Their heartbeats almost indistinguishable. Sirius’ thumb brushed along a new scar just below his cheekbone. Remus felt his touch- callused from holding quills. The strange sensation where the scar was. He brushed the strands of hair that had escaped behind Sirius’ ear, let his hand drop behind to hold Sirius’ neck. Everything piece of him inside was screaming. Sirius should get up. Remus felt out of control and any chance they had of plausible deniability was vanishing. Friends don’t lay sprawled and heavy on top of eachother. Their stomachs don’t flip at the touch. They don’t stare at each others' lips. Friends don’t— 

Sirius kissed him.

It was chaste and fast. Sirius’ eyes were squeezed shut tight enough to wrinkle his whole face. When Remus pulled him back in, his lips softened. Relief and adrenaline and desire mixed inside Remus and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to run away or just tug Sirius closer. It was brilliant.

Sirius broke away suddenly, sitting back up. Cold fear and uncertainty sharply edged its way into Remus. He pulled his knees to his chest and twirled the end of his shoelace between his fingers. 

Sirius sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do— I feel like— I don’t know if I can be a good person— I’m not now. I’m—” he trailed off.

Remus clenched his fists. For the first time Remus wished James were up here with them. He knew how to handle this stuff— knew how to handle emotions. Knew if Sirius needed a punch on the arm and a joke or something more. Sirius looked young now. All sharp bones— folding in on himself. It was unnerving. The sudden transformation and loss of confidence that had seemed to define him before.

“I left Regulus all alone there. I fucking know what they are like and I left him. I’m a bloody coward,” Sirius said. He stared at his hands and wrapped his leather bracelet tighter around his wrist. 

Remus bit his lip. His silence sounded louder than the wind around them.

“I have no idea what the hell I’m doing,” Sirius said.

“Do any of us?” Remus asked carefully.

Sirius didn’t look up. “I want you, Moony. But I’m selfish. I— make stupid choices and they lead to things like last year… You could have been arrested. Could have been something worse…” 

Remus ran his pinkie along a deep scratch in the red metal of the train roof and took a deep breath. He didn’t didn’t have time for the admission of Sirius’ desire to color his ears red before every emotion inside of him snapped into anger. Angry at himself for not knowing how to fix this. Angry at Sirius’ God-awful parents. Angry at Sirius for doubting himself now. Angry at him for continuing to ask for his forgiveness when he had already given it. 

“I’m done accepting your apology for that. Yeah, you are selfish. And immature. You’re impulsive and vindictive and seem incapable of using that big brain of yours to actually think a single thing through.”

Sirius looked up finally. His eyes were wide and shocked. 

“Yeah. I’m not gonna deny it. You have a crazy temper and you can be incredibly snobby about the weirdest things. You probably smoke too much and you’re too mean to Wormtail most of the time. You’re too posh and too cocky and—” Remus threw up his hands. He was sure he could keep going, but Sirius cleared his throat.

There was a sharpness back in his eyes and his back was straighter. He was smirking. “Is this meant to be cheering me up?”

“No,” Remus said, “I don’t know how to cheer you up. This situation sucks and that’s not going to change. And yeah, you are all those things. I’m not going to sit here and lie to you. But you are more than that. You are also disturbingly charming and intuitive. You can make just about anyone laugh. You are brilliant in this… spectacular way. You are scarily loyal and stubborn. And just, like, infuriatingly attractive. Like… it doesn’t even make sense and it drives me a bit mad, attractive,” Remus forced himself not to look away. 

“Oh yeah?” Sirius said, “Infuriatingly attractive?” He was grinning now. A familiar expression.

“And way too full of yourself. But the point is… I don’t know if you’re going to be a good person, Sirius. I don’t know if you are now. I just know— you’re all those things and more and I just—” Remus stumbled. _I love you_ echoed in his mind, but it felt too big to say. Instead he leaned back towards Sirius, cupped his neck in his palm, and tugged them together. This kiss this time was no longer cautious. Sirius pulled him closer, one hand gripping his waist tightly and the other exploring up his back.

“Thanks, Moony,” Sirius whispered against his neck. 

“We’re going to be okay,” Remus said.

“Sad lonely bachelors, right?” 

Remus grinned, lopsided and easy, “Something like that…” And maybe it was the rush of the wind— the way it left him unbalanced and giddy. Or the way he could still feel Sirius’ lips on his, still smell him, and feel the heat of his body pressed into his. But hope crept into Remus, leaving everything else— the impending war, the fact that they hadn’t exactly talked about what happened between them, every bleak detail of the werewolf laws— all of it felt distant— leaving him smiling and ready for whatever came next. 


End file.
